


Cloud Illusions

by bygoshbygolly



Category: Shoujo Kakumei Utena | Revolutionary Girl Utena
Genre: F/F, Feelings, Reflection, Understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 13:33:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8374030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bygoshbygolly/pseuds/bygoshbygolly
Summary: Sometimes, Utena thought that she'd like to understand Anthy better.Other times, Utena thought that she didn't want to understand Anthy at all.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dabblingDilettante](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dabblingDilettante/gifts).



Sometimes Utena thought that she'd like to understand Anthy better. She wanted to know why Anthy seemed so passive; why she simply accepted being the Rose Bride and letting others control her instead of fighting back. Why Anthy was the way that she was.

\---

They were in their usual place on the hill, Utena lying on her back and Anthy sitting demurely in the shade of the tree, legs curled to the side.

“Himemiya,” said Utena, “what do you think a princess is?”

“Don't you know?” Anthy's voice was light. Utena frowned.

“Of course,” she replied. Then, “I mean, I thought I did. But.” _Everything is more complicated than I thought_ , she didn't say. “Anyway, I asked what _you_ think.”

“It's simple, really,” Anthy said, petting Chu Chu. “A princess is a girl who isn't a witch.” Utena thought this over.

“A girl who isn't a witch,” she repeated. “Then, what makes a witch?” Anthy hummed.

“Isn't it obvious?” she said. “A witch is a girl who isn't a princess.”

“You're not making sense again,” Utena said hotly, sitting up. “Aren't there girls who aren't princesses _or_ witches? Can’t there be girls who are princesses _and_ witches?”

There was a brief silence.

“Oh dear,” Anthy said, shading her eyes and peering up into the cloudless blue sky, “It looks like it's going to rain.”

\---

Curiously, it indeed stormed that night, lashing sheets of water punctuated with loud clashes of thunder and bright flashes of lightning. A particularly loud crash of thunder woke Utena. She stared at the ceiling for a moment before a figure at the corner of her eye caught her attention.

It was Anthy. She was sitting by the window, hair loose, and Utena could barely make out her profile in the dark. There was another flash of lightning, and in that brief instant Utena saw that Anthy looked thoughtful, lovely and a little troubled. Her heart clenched. She wanted...

She didn't know what she wanted.

“Himemiya?” Anthy looked up.

“Oh, Utena! I'm sorry, did I wake you?” There was nothing in her voice that gave away that she might be feeling anything other than her usual bland serenity. Utena propped her head up on her arm.

“No, it was the storm.”

“Ah. Of course. You should go back to sleep.” There was silence in the room. Neither of them moved-- Anthy still looking up at the top bunk, Utena still looking down at her.

“I don't think I can,” Utena admitted finally. She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. “What about you?”

“I'll make some tea,” said Anthy.

A short time later found them sitting at the table, steaming cups of tea in their hands.

“Why were you up earlier?” Utena asked. “Was it the storm?”

“I was just thinking about something.” Anthy set down her teacup. “Do you believe in justice, Utena?”

“Justice?”

“Do you think that bad people deserve to have bad things happen to them?” Utena frowned.

“Is that justice?” she asked. Anthy just picked up her teacup and took another sip. Utena thought it over. “I don't know.” In the stories, bad things always happened to the witches and evil stepmothers and wicked kings, but life, Utena was quickly learning, wasn't always like the stories. Things weren't that simple. “I guess sometimes they might deserve it, but I don't see how that fixes anything.” Anthy hummed, but her eyes were sharp. “Why do you ask, anyway?”

“No reason.”

\---

Other times, Utena thought that she didn't want to understand Anthy at all.

\---

“Utenaaaa,” Wakaba sang as she wrapped her arms around her. “I haven't seen you in _forever_!”

“You saw me yesterday,” Utena smiled, patting Wakaba's hands.

“I know, but it _feels_ like forever.” Wakaba sighed and slumped against Utena. “You're always with Himemiya these days. What is she to you, anyway?” Utena froze. “Is she your best friend, now?” Wakaba continued.

“No!” Utena turned around. “You're my best friend, Wakaba.” Wakaba squealed with joy and flung her arms around Utena again.

What was Anthy to her, exactly? They were roommates, of course; they were friends, Utena liked to think, even if it wasn't the same way she and Wakaba were friends; Anthy said she was Utena's betrothed, but that didn't seem quite right either—it wasn’t something either of them had chosen, it was just because Anthy was the Rose Bride, and Utena was still figuring out what that even meant. Whatever they were, Utena wanted it to be something they both wanted. 

Was there even a word for what Anthy was? For the way Utena felt about her? It seemed like there should be, but none of the words Utena knew seemed quite right. They were too big, or too small, or they covered only a part of the things she felt. There were no words Utena knew that meant affection and frustration and protectiveness and all the other things she felt, all at once.

“Himemiya is...Himemiya,” she murmured to herself.

“Huh?” Wakaba cocked her head. Utena laughed, embarrassed.

“Ah, it's nothing. Let's go eat lunch.”

\---

Perhaps it was foolish for Utena to think she could understand Anthy. Perhaps no one ever truly understood anyone. But she could try, at least, and keep trying. And maybe, in trying to understand her, it was also all right to watch Anthy’s face and hands as she spoke or didn’t speak, and to take those hands in her own, and to listen to Anthy’s soft breathing as they fell asleep. Maybe, in trying to understand Anthy, she could understand herself.

And maybe that would be enough.

Maybe it could be a start.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Joni Mitchell's 'Both Sides Now'
> 
> I saw 'romance at the edge of things' and 'internally-focused pieces' and this happened.


End file.
